


AKA

by fairytalehearts



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 18:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19068337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalehearts/pseuds/fairytalehearts
Summary: All Human AU. DCI Sam Morningstar is on his biggest case yet... The FBI?





	AKA

**Author's Note:**

> I may have been watching Quantico when I started writing this. Also if this is liked I will work on flushing it out a bit more I just wanted to get it off my hard drive.

 “Once upon a time there was a beautiful police detective.”

The smallest one pouted up at him, tugging at his sleeve, “We’ve heard that one before.”

“Well. Fine. I will tell you a different story about a different police detective.”

**

Chloe was nervous. She didn’t like being nervous it made her itchy. And generally uncomfortable all over which she also disliked, but she was also stuck in a small space with a man who was like two feet taller than she was.

It was rare that she was _summoned_ anywhere. She hadn’t even punched the clock for the day before the District Chief was telling her Captain to have her report downtown. Plain clothes. She hadn’t even gotten the results of her detective exam yet. With all of her father’s contacts she hadn’t heard anything and there was no way in hell that they needed to talk to her in person about anything.

She kept her nose clean, tried to avoid the blatant sexism running rampant in her department and tried to not publically embarrass Officer Espinoza when she let him down easy after his seventh attempt.

Oh god, if that douchebag said something to their superiors she was going to _kill him_.

Which led her to now, where she was not at any LAPD facility that she’d ever heard of.  The building was nondescript, old, and if it weren’t for the armed guards she would have thought she was in the wrong place. They took her cellphone, sat her down on the world’s smallest bench next to tall, dark and handsome. Their hips were touching. She was miserable, but he was a tall guy, if his knees practically being shoved to his chest were any indication.

“How long have you been here?” Chloe asked finally unable to take the anxiety of their situation. Maybe the stranger knew something she didn’t.

“Well, Detective, I arrived ten minutes before you did and that was probably about two hours ago.” The man held up his wrist, faint tan lines revealing he used to wear a watch.  “Sam. Sam Morningstar.”

“It’s just Officer. Chloe Decker.” She held her hand out to shake his and he held her hand for just a bit too long. She was distracted by the flecks of light reflected in his eyes, the dark brown with slightly lighter colors swirled in. She was so distracted, the door opening to their left made her jump, the spell between them broken.

“I am so sorry for the wait. DCI Morningstar, Detective Decker. They can see you now.”

“I’ve been on a bloody plane for the past day, get dropped here by an _uber pool_ and no one will tell me what the hell is going on. You took my gun, my badge and my fucking watch, so someone better start talking-”

Someone exited the room behind the secretary and if Chloe wasn’t _seeing things_ she’d think that the Director of the FBI, Director of Homeland Security, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and The Vice President were on screens in front of them.

Sam was still rambling, so Chloe put her hand over his mouth to shut him up. “Stop talking before you get us both get arrested for treason.”

She tilted his jaw (which was hard to reach because he was too damn tall) into the office. Making sure he’d shut up, she removed her hand before he did something crazy like bite her. He looked into the room again and straightened his suit jacket. The woman ushered the two of them into the room, and Chloe could hear the telltale click of a lock behind them.

“See? I told you they’d work out, Mac. Now come in, come in. We have a mission for the both of you. This is a joint task force between the NCA and the FBI. Have you heard of Piero Cossini? Oh- by the way the two of you have been promoted.”

Chloe had no clue who Piero Cossini was. By the looks of it, Sam didn’t either. Good. They were on an even playing field.

“Piero Cossini was one of cybercrimes most wanted for the past five years. However, he was found dead under an assumed name in Texas. That assumed name had made it into Quantico with his fake credentials. Now why would a hacker, who had disappeared, scot-free, mind you- want to risk exposure by going to Quantico?”

“He’s either meeting someone or hiding somewhere safe.” Sam spoke up. The other people in the room seemed to agree with him if the looks they were giving the two of them were any indication. She and Sam weren’t even near the table or the chairs. Standing in the back of the room, Chloe wasn’t even sure they were allowed to sit.

“Well it took us seventeen agencies to find someone with your background, Morningstar. You even look like the poor dead bastard. We’re more than sure you’ll be up to the task. The two of you are the youngest detectives in your precincts history. First woman. Not bad Detective Decker. Your application to Quantico is going to be approved.”

One of the guys at the precinct filled that out as a joke. It was meant to belittle her for her stellar arrest record. Well fuck all twelve of those assholes. She was ready.

“When do we leave?”

**

“Sam, you do look like him. If you had a pornstache and a wonky eyebrow.” Chloe observed, the only thing to do on the plane ride was to prep. The file wasn’t allowed to leave the plane, so she had done whatever possible to commit the file to memory.

Piero had been hiding in Europe for years. Sam’s British accent would have to do. There’s no way an international hacker would be so obvious as to keep his speech pattern the same as his heritage.

Chloe held the picture up to Sam and he choked on his water.

“Perhaps I should ask my Mum if I had an evil twin at birth.” Sam snarked, going back to his list of known things about Piero.

“That implies that you are on speaking terms with your mother.” Chloe pointed out. He hadn’t made any phone calls the whole 12 hours they’d been together. She’d called her parents of course, and made arrangements for them to water her plants.

“Maybe I’m a professional, Detective.”

“Maybe you’re a good liar. Even professionals maintain cover. Sorry if I struck a nerve.”

“That’s perfectly alright, Detective. We’re the only thing we have until our handler makes contact.”

His ‘ _Detective_ ’s came out more like an insult, but she would take it. It was an accomplishment, and if they actually finished their stint at Quantico she could add ‘Agent’ in front of her name.  Then Sam could go back ‘across the pond’ and she could be free of her British Burden.

The plan was easy:

Sam Morningstar aka Piero Cossini aka Vince Smith would show up to Quantico as normal. She, being herself, would help survey the other students and staff. Their handler would show up posing as Agent Green from L.A.

If they figured this out quickly she could be back home in a month.

Their plane would land in a private airstrip in D.C. and they would take separate modes of transportation to Quantico.

Sam’s brow furrowed at the file he was reading and then he slammed it down on the seat next to them.

“What does he like Brussel Sprouts or something?”

“No he likes blonde authority types. Which is a bit off if you consider the billions of pounds he steals for a living.”

Chloe wasn’t stupid. They wouldn’t pick her just for her badge. “They want me to be in your little harem of women. And I will do that, Sam, but I need to know that I can trust you. When things are going to shit we need a safe word so we know that we’re both still in this together. That you can still be Sam and not Piero or Vince or whoever they want you to be next.”

“I think ‘brussel sprouts’ will be sufficient- Chloe.”

The plane started its descent and Sam put the folders back into the secure briefcase.

Leaning back against the headrest, she opened one eye at Sam, probably for the last time, and smiled.

They would be okay.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Green.”

“What’s your favorite food?

“Hot dogs. I visited Chicago once as a child and they were just different. Loved them.”

She headed to the awaiting taxi and mentally wished him good luck. This would be a lot harder on him than it would be on her. He would need to completely become someone else and that was a lot easier to do than most people would think. It was coming back to yourself that was the problem.

**

“Decker, move your tight bum!”

Chloe really hated that he could outrun her. Hated it so much. The other recruits had months to prepare. She had two days. If it weren’t for her superior marksmanship she might have gotten cut the first day.

Catching up to the smarmy asshole, she picked up the pace, and meant to tap his ass gently with her hand. She misjudged her own strength however, and she could feel the firm flesh of his ass vibrate with the slap.

Cheeks red, she knew her flirting skills sucked so opted not to make a response and just beat him to the finish line. He finished dead last. And he was just standing there.

One of the instructors finally barked, “Smith! Any time now!”

Sam woke up from his spell and finished the run. Their handler still hadn’t made contact yet, so she was just biding her time until that happened. _Piero_ ’s contact could be anyone. There were too many unknowns so she just had to silently observe everyone. It was horrible. And Sam was- her only ally. He was crude and unapologetic and overly confident. And damn he couldn’t seem to keep his shirt on.

Like now for instance he stripped off his shirt. For no reason. Also he had the strangest ability to make friends with anyone. Like the entire class they were in. They’d been at Quantico for less than forty-eight hours and somehow met everyone.

Wiping the sweat off his brow, he jogged over to her side, resting the shirt behind his neck so she could see his arms. It had been awhile. Her libido was overreacting.

“Chloe, me and the boys are gonna hit up the bar tonight. You in?” Sam asked in a shockingly American accent. For an Italian cyber hacker. “Please come. There’s nothing sadder than a hot woman alone on a Friday night.”

Chloe rolled her eyes at his comment. “Sure. I could use a drink. I hear you’re rich, so you’re paying.”

Which led to the gaggle of girls that had been staring at her rush over and ask how she knew Vince Smith and if he was a good kisser. Was this high school? She hated high school. The questions came a mile a minute, so fast Chloe had to try to follow voices just to keep up.

“He’s seriously the hottest man I’ve ever seen up close.” “We are at Quantico with some of the hottest guys ever. Scott can benchpress both of us” “Well he’s the hottest.”

Laughing with the other girls, Chloe added her two cents, “I don’t know maybe VInce’s type is emotionally unavailable women who like to boss him around.”

Still chuckling to herself, she headed back to her room where a woman was now sitting on the other bed. “Hey. I’m Ella.”

“Chloe.”

“I don’t know about you Chloe, but I feel like we’re going to be the best of friends. I’m late because I got recruited straight out of high school. I don’t want you to think that I’m like... lazy or something.” Ella chirped helpfully. Her hark hair was back in a ponytail that swished side to side while she talked. It was- cute.

“-also I organize things when I’m nervous so your socks are in color order.”

Chloe pulled open the drawer, and sure enough, all of her dark socks were in order. So were her t-shirts and underwear.

“I’d ask you to come with us to the bar tonight, but I don’t think they’d let you in. No offense. Sorry. I’m not good with friends or people. I’m better with street thugs and murders. Solving cases.” Chloe apologized lamely, closing the drawer after grabbing the one dress she’d brought with her.

Ella spun around and covered her eyes for good measure. “It’s cool, cool. I um, skipped freshman year and you know, read a lot of books.”

Sufficiently changed, Chloe pulled out her ponytail and shook her hair loose. “Okay. I’ll be back. Don’t wait up- Roomie.”

“I won’t I promise. Just- if you bring a boy. Man. If you bring a man home in the future. Leave a sock or something?”

Chloe snorted. “What are the odds that I bring a boy home?”

**

Seven Years Later

“Trixie- school bus. Now.” Opening the door for her daughter, she gasped at an all too familiar face. Sam looked the same, hair was a little shorter, but he was still tall and just as handsome.

“Detective? Please tell me you found yourself missing a certain dark haired lover-”

Trixie stopped to hug her side, looking up at the stranger in front of her. Internal debate decided, Trixie hugged Sam’s side too. “Bye Mommy! Bye Mommy’s Friend!”

Chloe wasn’t sure if it was possible to actually see someone calculating math equations in their head, but when Sam started counting on his fingers she knew he was coming to the right conclusion.

“Oh shit.”

**

Seven Years Ago

Two weeks ago, he was Sam Morningstar. DCI extraordinaire. Sure he may have enjoyed punishing the guilty but a little too much, but he was very good at what he did. Growing up in the streets of East London taught him all he needed to know about life and he got good at blending into new situations.

Well usually. A few members of the entourage tasked with picking him up from his flat may have broken teeth but when one was playing the piano in their underwear on their only day off in six months, one may have reacted poorly.

Now he was Vince Smith. Played fast and loose with the rules and grew up in New York. Father was an informant for the FBI against the mob back in the day and lead him to a life of crime fighting. Applying to FBI was his own legacy. Liked _football_ (not actual football) and beer (not actual beer).

Sam hadn’t seen his own father in over ten years and his mother was off travelling the globe with him. He got a call once every few years inviting him to Ibizia or the Turks and Caicos or wherever they were.  Sam wasn’t even sure what his father did to make all that money but he’d turned vacationing into a career. Being ten and having your parents leave you with a “nanny” who stopped showing up when she realized they wouldn’t be checking in on him , was an _experience_ to say the least.

But his sad story wasn’t going to be his legacy that was something he and Vince had in common.

Quantico was harder than he thought it was going to be. The bloody Americans gave as good as they got and while he liked to think he was the cleverest person in the room, that obviously wasn’t true.

“Lucifer, you’re with Graham.”

Sam looked to Agent McLaughlin and then to the only remaining sparring partner. “I’m sorry. _Lucifer_?”

“I heard your little performance of Devil Went Down to Georgia last night.” McLaughlin smirked. “It seemed fitting.”

If he were being honest with himself, which he rarely was, he hadn’t realized he’d been playing the song. Chloe was half-asleep on his shoulder despite the upbeat tempo of the song, his scotch still in her hand while she fell in and out of sleep.

The Annoying American had grown on him. She was annoying and persistent and- clever. Smart wasn’t enough to draw his interest but he supposed Detective Decker was like a grumpy alleycat. Cute and definitely had claws.

 _A grumpy alleycat you wanted to take for a run in the sack_ his mind betrayed him.

Said alleycat was currently chokeholding a man twice her size and taunting him, “You tapping out? Call me _Princess Detective_ again. It’s Agent Decker.”

Her arm was drawn so tightly across the man’s neck that if she applied even the slightest bit of more pressure she’d probably break her own wrist breaking the poor bloke’s trachea. The man finally tapped out when the red was creeping up his neck.

Fight training for Sam was learned the hard way in pub brawls, so fighting these Americans on padded mats was easy.

Eventually he got matched with Chloe, and he took his shirt off for good measure. Arms up, he wasn’t sure who moved first but Chloe didn’t plant her feet well enough and maybe it was dirty but when she went for his arm, he tripped her feet.

But the damn _hellcat_ , as she’d been recently promoted, must have been a dancer or gymnast or something because she twisted him right along with her by kicking her opposite leg out and the two of them landed in a twist of limbs, somehow she got her arm stuck between his legs and facing the other way on top of him.

He needed a cold shower.

Maybe two cold showers. Chloe could not be _less_ interested in him.

“That was fun. Nice try, what’s your name again?” The Detective feigned, hopping into a standing position.

“Vince. Vince Smith.”

“Well Vince, sorry about kicking your ass-”

Sam pulled the same trick on her, her whole body falling to the ground. He moved his knees to either side of her hips his more than obvious erection rubbing against her in the most _delicious_ way.

“Same time next week?”

 Sam stood up and gave her a hand up, the two of them walking back towards the showers.

“Where are you two going?”

“The showers?”

“Funny. I didn’t see showers on your training schedule. We have an op training in two minutes.”

Their little sparring session apparently ran a bit long, the two of them sliding into the classroom in their workout gear. Being lectured about de-escalation tactics was nothing new to him but the feeling of _want_ was. He kept trying to push thoughts about the detective out of his head but it wasn’t working. She was not his type. She was bossy. She was overly prepared and annoying and- the drop of sweat on her brow was rolling down her face and he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

Chloe had four different pens and four matching highlighters to take notes out of a three-ring binder. Each class had a tab and while she diligently scribbled notes about their upcoming field exercise he pulled a notebook out of his bag and realized he didn’t have a bloody pen.

“I expect to get this back.” Chloe whispered, throwing a pen at his chest.

Sam was convinced he’d give her anything he wanted at this point.

**

Sam always assumed Americans were exaggerating when they said paintballs hurt.

He was wrong. Annoying American had shot him in the fucking balls and while he prided himself on his stamina in all physical matters in and out of the bedroom, he folded like a piece of paper on the ground during their live fire event.

Her team won the paintball match and she was bragging about it in the infirmary wearing the flag like a blanket. It would be cute if he wasn’t in such mind-numbing pain.

“You’ve already crippled me Detective. Can’t you leave a man and his balls well alone?”

The goody two shoes nurse agreed with him and made her leave his room while he prayed to whomever would listen that he was not going to pee in a bag for the rest of his life.

“You’re a hard man to get alone, Mr. Cossini. Clever plan to ‘injure’ yourself.”

The nurse handed him a plastic bag _full of pills_ and rattled off her account number to some cryptocurrency account he wasn’t familiar with. Sam was crunching the numbers, that many Vicodin might catch a good price for its street value but it was nowhere near enough to bring a retired hacker out of retirement. Especially to infiltrate the FBI.

“Tell the Post Man that I held up my end of the deal. I don’t know or care who these cancer drugs are for but this dosage is not good. Maybe you can use that information to blackmail him out of this situation. A man of your skills could find out more than I ever could.”

Sam nodded and shoved the bag of pills into his bag. The doctor came by to discharge him and the nurse disappeared. Chloe was waiting in the hallway next to a new face. She did not look happy to be there. Agent Green, he presumed. He also presumed Chloe was not in the hospital to cheer him up, but more a deliberate attack on his manhood.

“I’ll need you to come with me, Agent Smith.”

The agent did not introduce himself but had a car waiting to take the two of them back to Quantico.

“Let me guess, I’ve endured excruciating pain as part of some elaborate plan to take down some Post Man.” Sam finally spoke when the car was moving. The doors had double locks on them and if the blinking light on the ceiling was any indication, they were somehow blocking sound. He couldn’t even hear the tires moving.

Chloe finally spoke, “Agent Adam-”

“Your first name Adam or your last name Adam?”

“First name. Last name’s Dale.”

“Adam Dale is your bloody name? Who the fuck named you?”

Adam Dale laughs at him. Full on belly laughs and while he was not in on the joke, Chloe’s look of impending death got worse. Putting a hand on his knee, he wasn’t sure what the look of sympathy was supposed to convey but Chloe picked up a file from the seat and handed it to him.

Inside was a picture of his father, many years ago. Holding a small baby, with the words _To my son Adam. The day of your birth was the one of the happiest of my life. Love, Your Father_.

Adam’s laughs stop. “Our father did.”

There were so many questions running through his head. Too many to name or put into words. He may have even blacked out he wasn’t sure, but Chloe was relaying any miniscule detail she could remember about the nurse to Adam. His _brother_ Adam.

There were pictures of his father at Piano Concerts and at a Cubs game-

“You’re from Chicago. Of course.” Sam’s whole life made fucking sense now. His father had another life which was why he was never around. He abandoned his _less favorite_ son for his _favorite_ son. Hot dogs were ruined for him now. “Stop the bloody car, I’m fucking walking. And tell whoever you report to there is no way in hell I am working with him.”

The car pulled over and he got out, Chloe hot on his heels. “Vince. Vince! _Sam!_ ”

That got his attention. Turning on his heel, he knew it was wrong to talk when he was this mad, but the vile string of words that came out of his mouth were bad even as he was speaking them. He thought he had pushed all thoughts of his shitty father out of his head but he was wrong.

“High School graduation, college graduation. Did you see Detective? He’s father of the fucking year! I’ve been lied to my whole fucking life but it’s fine. He was a great guy to _Adam Dale_ , all-American whatever the fuck that means. I ate out of dumpsters before Child Protection finally came calling. But I didn’t let that hold me back. I worked and saved and went to school all on my own!”

“I know, Sam.”

He was pacing on the side of the road like an idiot, but he couldn’t stop himself, “And I was a good person! Catching bad guys, really bad guys. And the worst fucking part is that my mother was with him the whole damn time.”

His favorite picture was of his parents in the background of Adam’s wedding. Which was only a few weeks ago so when he was leaving his mother a voicemail about not coming back to London for awhile, they were at a fucking wedding for his fucking brother.

Chloe was crying and he might be crying too. The feeling was foreign to him. Tears. She wiped her face and gently asked him, “What can I do?”

To her credit she didn’t talk about duty to their countries or the mission or even the Post Man. She was being genuinely nice to him and he had to go and ruin it. Laughing harshly, he spit out, “You can spread your legs for me, Detective.”

Watching someone’s face go from genuine concern to utter disgust in the blink of an eye was startling. “You know, I defended you to Agent Dale. I told him you had a hard life and it would take time for you to come around. I didn’t tell him you were an asshole, _Lucifer_.”

He hated his new nickname, but he hated the way she was looking at him even more. She didn’t talk to him the whole walk back to Quantico, the whole bus ride to their mission.

“Okay folks. This is a live drill. There are actual drug dealers here. We don’t want them. We want their supplier. All we know is that they are moving the drugs tonight, sometime at this charity event. We think the home is owned by one of the bigger dealers. Whomever comes back with a name or a location gets to go on the raid.”

Focusing on work was something he could always do so he put his best Vince Smith look on and headed into the party.

Sneaking into the homeowner’s office was easy. The damn door wasn’t even locked. All of their files were easily accessible with the password taped underneath the keyboard and while they might be a mess, they were a financial genius.

Maybe drug dealer was an understatement. They were a drug lord and the shipment coming in tonight was one of their smaller shipments for the month. The telltale sign of a key entering the lock made him panic briefly before the short ‘Really? Unlocked?’ from Chloe was heard from the other side of the door.

“Oh great. You’re here already.”

The handle to the door jiggled again and Sam decided he was done taking chances. One of the burly security guards came in, shinning a flashlight on them. Chloe turned her back and sniffed rather loudly before wiping at her nose. Her transition from Future FBI Agent to Coked Out Party Girl was impressive.

“A little privacy? Sheesh. I’m telling your boss how creepy you are right now!”

The security guard was not impressed. Pointing at the door, the two of them slipped out, the flash drive he’d been using tucked safely in his pocket. The guard talked into the mouthpiece in his cuff and Sam did his best to encourage Chloe to walk faster. Something bad was about to happen he just knew it.

The two of them split up in the crowd and he double backed for her, just in time to see a wall panel pop out and spin her into the wall.

Slamming his fists against the locked door, Sam tried to go over his options for getting to Chloe. There was no seam to pry the door open, there was no control panel and there was no lock on the door.

But she had been there one minute and gone the next- and it wasn’t as if there was anywhere for her to go in the dead end with no windows. He’d gone and fucked everything up between them by asking her to sleep with him.

Now she was locked in the fucking wall of a suspected drug lord and it was all his fault. Slamming his back against the wall, he slid to the floor in defeat. Chloe was a distraction. He should be making contacts in the underworld, he should find out if Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes was really a drug dealer.

Instead he was a lot drunker than he’d like to admit and _depressed_. Head in his hands, he tried to formulate a plan, a strategy, something that would get him out of this whole disaster of a mission.

Someone kicked at his feet, his eyes darting up- Chloe with two glasses in her hand a bottle of bourbon. She was fine. Not kidnapped. Not missing. And had top-shelf liquor if the scent was any indication.

“Did someone steal your tea again?”

Her shoes were kicked off into his chest, and she fluffed the frilly skirt out so she could sit on the ground next to him.

The second she’s fully seated, he grabs the lapel of the little jacket-thing she was wearing and mashed their mouths together. It wasn’t cute or suave or sexy or anything like that, but she tasted like the chocolate cakes they’d been giving out for dessert.

Her hand went to his cheek, the pads of her fingertips gripping his cheek.

His neck was turned at an odd angle but he’d decided that kissing Chloe Decker was the only thing that really mattered at the moment.

Well that and oxygen.

Trying to keep the panting out of his breaths, he smirked at Chloe’s bright red cheeks. He’d never met anyone who could be awkward and sexy at the same time. Waiting for her response he couldn’t hide the stupid smile on his face.

Mainly because her hand was still on his cheek.

“Let’s get out of here, Vince.”

He grabbed her hand before she could take another step. “This is a horrible idea, but I need to feel something besides utter shit.”

They had homework they should be doing, but he could write a sonnet or a debrief about the utter fascination he had with Chloe Jane Decker in his sleep. Adjectives like vibrant and silly blurred together but then their first time was on a squeaky mattress that was designed for a person at least five inches shorter than he was.

Things like _first time_ and second and third _time_ were things he was starting to realize scared him more than this assignment or Piero Cossini’s death. He could (somewhat) deal with the stuff going on in his life but Chloe would graduate from Quantico and get assigned somewhere and he would go back to his flat in London.

This was not going to last.

She calls him by his actual name _Sam_ whenever they are alone and he decides it doesn’t matter. He’d live in the moment like he had his whole life.

Even if it ended up burning him in the end.

**

Seven Years Ago

Running his finger down Chloe’s arm, he did his best to commit everything to memory one last time. The goosebumps, the color of her hair. The case was never going to be over. He was more valuable as Piero Cossini than he was as plain old Sam Morningstar.

Graduation was tomorrow- he’d done what no Brit before him had dared to accomplish- graduated Quantico, top his class, fell in love with the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and then was immediately to leave her while he headed to Italy to pretend to be a master criminal.

Life sucked.

Contacting Chloe would be too dangerous. If any of the hackers Piero normally hung out with were worth their salt, they’d find a way to tie the two of them together with even a hint of a phone call. He would do anything to keep her safe and if that meant never seeing her again- he would do that.

Collecting his clothes, he got dressed as quietly as possible. He’d already left a note in her luggage for when she got back to L.A. Saying goodbye in person would destroy him. Chloe could easily convince him to stay. They’d get a house near the ocean, and be the best agents in the LA Field office.

And maybe pop out a few kids. Get married.

But that was just a dream and he’d already had one dream come true. Bag packed, he took one last look at Chloe before heading to the waiting car on the back road out of Quantico.

“We solved the case, what two weeks ago? You asked for a lot to stay this long.” Adam pointed out. “Didn’t this just make things worse for her?”

If they left early, she wouldn’t have graduated Quanitco at the top of her class and gotten no flashy FBI promotion. Their time together would have been meaningless, and he was selfish. Two weeks was forever. At least it was to Sam.

“Piero Cossini does what he wants. And his _staff_ should not be making comments to the contrary.” Sam countered, pulling his sunglasses out of his carryon bag next to him.

“Sure thing, _Boss_.”

Throwing himself into his work was easy. Too easy. He shook hands with known criminals and became the best Piero he could possibly be. Adam, while annoyingly stalwart was an excellent handler. The first few years were easy, regain notoriety in Piero’s circles after his “brush with death” and then live his best criminal life.

When they started arresting people, that’s when the real fun began. Their latest sting he ended up being arrested with Adam, the two of them slammed into a police car in France before being processed. Diego Han made a call to his lawyer, swear obscenities in Spanish, and then handed the phone to him.

“Don’t tell me the great Piero Cossini doesn’t have his lawyer’s phone number memorized?”

Sam laughed, dialing the first number that came to mind. He didn’t realize it was Chloe’s until the third ring.

“Hello?” the voice was much too young to be his Detective. Thank god for small miracles. She’d moved or changed her number or something in the past four years.

“Yes. This is him. I’ve found myself in a bit of a pickle. Yes the France deal. Okay. I will wait for your call.”

“I think you got the wrong number, mister. MOMMY! There’s a man-”

Sam hung up the phone and then handed it to Adam. He spent 48 hours in a jail cell wondering why he still considered her _his_ detective _._ Wondering where she was a common occurrence. Maybe she was taking down her own drug dealers or raiding a sex trafficking ring.

She got a new number and a new life. He wanted the best for her and he hoped she got it.

**

Chloe

 “What was I supposed to do? Call up the assistant to _Lucifer_ aka Piero Cossini. Guess what Sam? You knocked me up that last night at Quantico! Hey Sam- I miss you a lot but you’re taking down an international crime ring- oh look Trixie is walking! Should I have sent a telegram or just you know sent a google maps link to international terrorists?”

Chloe had thought about the things she was going to say to Sam if he ever came home. They usually tended to be on the mushier side of things- I love you. I miss you. Come home. But it was like all of the things Linda had been talking about just- clicked. Slamming the door behind him she paced towards the living room, years of pent up anger finally being released.

“I am so mad at you for leaving me here. I actually hate you. I was perfectly fine with my boring normal life and you shook me up and dumped me out emotionally and I couldn’t be mad- the bureau is the bureau and you were doing the world a favor taking out so many bad guys- I actually lost count. And by the way, having a baby by yourself really sucks. Like really sucks. You’re the actual worst.”

She wanted him to scream at her. She was being irrational, but she wanted a reaction. Instead he entered her home, locked the door behind himself and dropped his very worn carryon next to the door. It was very methodical, the way he removed his sunglasses and then kicked off his shoes.

Especially since he didn’t say anything the whole time.

Especially when he bent over to pick her up.

The two of them were eye level, her ankles wrapping around his middle.

“I’m going to talk now, Detective. I’ve been on a plane for 30 hours. I had to piss in a water bottle. I’m cranky, starving and the first fucking thing I did after sneaking off an airplane is steal a rental car and find you. You can be as mad as you want at me tomorrow.”

Their hips swayed together while he looked around her house towards the bathroom.

She finally pointed to the third door and he walked the two of them into the shower with their clothes on. Preparing to dismount, he held her still, bending his knee up quickly to turn the shower on.

“You’re crazy!” Chloe shrieked trying to the keep the cold water from pelting her in the face.

Hiding her face against his worn shirt, he smelled disgusting. No wonder he wanted a shower. Detangling herself from him, she unbuttoned his shirt and was met with a barrage of red skin, half-healed from poor stitches and shit- his shirt was not red.

It was whiter in spots. _Oh god it was blood._

“YOU’RE Crazy!” She was angry this time and she would have punched him but his chest looked like swiss cheese and she made him turn around so she could peel the shirt off him. It was _stuck_ to his body. And she loved every flinch that dumbass-

His back was not as bad as his front, save for the giant welts over each shoulder blade.

“Funny story did you know that a human body can be held up by those meat hook things?”

Bending down to unzip his pants, she pulled them down his legs. The material was threadbare, at one point they were probably nice expensive linen pants. Now they were tatters and were going straight to the garbage.

Chloe pulled the shower curtain back, she threw his clothes away and stripped her own clothes off before heading towards the cupboard in the sink. She kept his stupid expensive British body wash and his stupid shampoo from France.

When he returned, Lucifer was holding himself up with his hands on either side of the showerhead. She’d never been shy about her body but it was different. They were both vulnerable in new unexpected ways.

Squirting the body wash onto her hands, she ran her hands down his sides, the only unmarked part of his body before slowly moving along his back. At first glance, he flinched and she moved her hands back as quick as humanely possible.

But the flinching didn’t stop and she realized he was trembling. Sam turned around under the spray and bent down to kiss her with no indication or preamble.

The echoes of his past words _I need to feel something besides utter shit_ reverberated in her mind and she kissed him back as best as she could. Their height difference was even worse when she wasn’t wearing shoes and the quiet desperate kiss soon became more frantic.

Balling his fists, he took a step backwards to put space in between them. He should apologize for being gone. He should apologize for the kiss that stole her breath. And he might have if Maze didn’t whip open the door to the bathroom at the most inopportune time ever.

The knob hit the wall with a resounding crack and Sam jumped into action, moving in front of her for her ‘protection’.

 “Chloe! Get the hell out of the shower! Are you sick or something? We have a case and you, my grouchy, need to get laid best friend, are the brains of the operation. And you were uncharacteristically _not_ at work so now I have to do that thing, where I explain the icky details. I _hate_ that thing.”

Chloe turned off the shower and grabbed at the towel Maze threw over the top before glaring at Sam to be quiet.

“Maze- could you give me some privacy?” Chloe begged, praying this would be the one time that Maze actually listened to her-

The shower curtain whipped open and the series of squeaks and shrieks that came out of Maze’s mouth was the most annoying thing she’d ever heard in her life.

“You. And a Man. You _skipped_ work, Agent Chloe Decker- model employee. I cannot believe this! And you didn’t tell me! What about our blood pact, Decker? What about _trust?_ ” Maze looked Sam up and down and nodded her approval. “Sonja Mazikeen. My friends call me Maze but you can call me Future Threesome.”

“Sam Morningstar.”

Chloe had seen Maze take out three guys with guns barehanded. With one arm behind her back. And she _fainted_ right in front of them. Scrambling, Chloe caught her in time to save her head from the edge of the tub but she had passed out at the news.

“Does that happen a lot?” Sam took Maze out of her hands carried her towards the bedroom. No towel. Just dripped all over the floor.

“She’s convinced I am incapable of finding a man, due to my horrible flirting skills, and insisted that Trixie was a miracle from god.”

“Did you tell her it was doggy-style in the trails behind Quantico?”

Maze opened one eye and made a ‘woof-woof’ sound before jolting out of bed. “You got ten minutes to get dressed and then me and _Lucifer_ are going to have a little chat about that drunk tattoo we got and every single embarrassing detail of you sex life. You know if you ever came back, I’ll be honest. I was a little intimidated. But something tells me we’re going to be great friends, Sam.”

“I like her, Detective. Not as much as you, but it’s close.”

**

TBC?


End file.
